


To Sweep the Will Away Entirely

by BlossomsintheMist



Series: Steve/Tony Kinktober 2017 [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Steve, Bottom Steve Rogers, Derogatory Language, Dirty Talk, Dom Tony, Dom Tony Stark, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Established Relationship, Explicit D/s Dynamic, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Held Position, Humiliation, Humiliation kink, Kinktober, Kinktober 2017, Light Masochism, M/M, Masochism, Name-Calling, Office Sex, Overstimulation, Sexual Content, Sub Steve, Sub Steve Rogers, Teasing, Top Tony, Top Tony Stark, Verbal Humiliation, clothed dom naked sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 09:36:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12296430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlossomsintheMist/pseuds/BlossomsintheMist
Summary: “See,” Tony murmured in his ear, hand still stroking softly through his hair, “I know you like it.  Love this, love me to call you names, to rub it in. Love to be humiliated, don’t you, sweetcheeks?”Written for Day Five of Kinktober: Humiliation.





	To Sweep the Will Away Entirely

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from The Secret History by Donna Tartt (which is about something VERY different, but work with me here):
> 
> _“Because it is dangerous to ignore the existence of the irrational. The more cultivated a person is, the more intelligent, the more repressed, then the more he needs some method of channeling the primitive impulses he’s worked so hard to subdue. Otherwise those powerful old forces will mass and strengthen until they are violent enough to break free, more violent for the delay, often strong enough to sweep the will away entirely.”_

“You like this, don’t you?” Tony’s voice came slowly, burning through the hot buzz of desire curling tight in Steve’s stomach, dancing through his whole body under his skin, building and building in his cock, filtering through Steve’s desire-dazed brain even as Tony’s fingers stroked down over the back of Steve’s neck, rubbing right under his hairline.

“Uh,” Steve managed, a thick, sluggish sound that sounded dopey even in his own ears, made him flush. His tongue felt too thick and slow in his mouth to speak, and it was hard to form the words, even harder to think them, feeling Tony rubbing at the back of his neck like that with his fingers. He raised his head, dazedly, feeling like he was blinking into a bright light, and tried to look up at him.  “I, I.”

“Aww, honey, that’s okay,” Tony said, still stroking the back of Steve’s neck in that way that had him shivering all the way down to his toes, tingling prickles of sensation sweeping over his skin.  “I know, I know.  You’re not exactly up to a lot of intellectual effort right now, are you?” Steve flushed, bit his lip, moaned against the seat of Tony’s chair, where he was bent over it, face pressed against the leather.  It smelled like one of Tony’s suits, and his nose was filled with the subtle scent of his cologne, clean and floral and woody and sweet all at once. His bare skin felt damp, sticking to the leather.  “Guess I fucked all the brains right out of your pretty head,” Tony continued, voice bright and satisfied and amused and beautifully, perfectly cruel, and Steve felt his tired cock jerk, painfully, desperately hardening, at that tone in his voice, even as Tony squeezed at the back of his neck, pushed his head back down, moving to straddle Steve, so that he felt Tony’s slacks, his legs, warm through the fine fabric, on either side of his hips, felt the warm hot press of Tony’s cock against the sweat-slicked small of his own back, and felt a surge of alarm that Tony was getting his nice suit dirty with Steve’s sweat.

“T-Tony,” he said, a protest that Tony should be careful of his suit, but Tony just tutted at him, hard, firm palm squeezing at the back of Steve’s neck again, pushed his head down harder, and Steve let him, shivering.

“Not that it’s hard,” he said, “because you’re so _easy_ for it, Rogers, just go right out of your head once someone’s got their fingers inside you, don’t you; just a few jabs to your prostate and you’re drooling for it, couldn’t even tell me your own name, isn’t that right?” and Steve flushed hot, burning and feeling his neck blazing, his cock jerking painfully. He didn’t let go of the arms of the chair where Tony had told him to hold on, shivering under Tony’s gaze, even as Tony dug his teeth into Steve’s shoulder in a bite that made him gasp, made pain spark through his nerve endings, go straight to his cock, even before Tony’s hand slid around, curved around the hot, oversensitive, aching flesh, making Steve flinch as he tugged on it, pulled Steve’s foreskin up, over his head, and rubbed his thumb over it, inside it, playing with it, pushing his thumb in against the oversensitive slit until Steve was flinching all through his body at the hot burn, not pleasure anymore and not exactly pain, that shot through him, stabbing into his belly with every touch.  All Steve could do was moan, his mouth open and wet, because it was so overwhelming, having his cock touched there, right on the head where he was most sensitive, _now_ , making him hard again already while his cock ached and throbbed and the skin felt too, too small for how hot and swollen it was in Tony’s hard, commanding palm, against his clever, teasing fingers.  It felt— _good_ , though, on the verge of pain and too much, like a razor against his skin, but good, Tony over him, around him, making him hard again whether he liked it or not, surrounded by Tony’s smell, his warmth, the fine fabric of his suit sliding against Steve’s sensitive, too-hot skin, his teeth sending harsh little pricks of pain to dig into Steve’s belly, shoot hot into his cock.

“Tony,” he moaned again, into the leather.

“That’s it,” Tony cooed against his shoulder.  “That’s it, thicken up for me, what a good boy, getting hard all over again for me, aren’t you, pumpkin?  All nice and hard in my hand, and oooh, you liked that, made your cock jump, didn’t it?” Steve gasped, moaned again, knowing it was true, he’d hardened, cock pulsing, jerking, at Tony’s words.  It never failed to get to him, Tony’s voice, low and purring with sex, in his ear, teasing him, mocking him, making Steve acknowledge what Tony was doing to his body, leaving him twice as aware of himself, of his responses, of his cock, and shaking under Tony’s hands, his body, his control.  “Yeah, you like it,” Tony said, stroking his cock slowly now until Steve’s breath was sobbing in his throat.  “You like me to tell you what a needy, desperate piece of work you are, how desperate you get, how bad you need a firm hand.  You can’t control yourself, can you, sport?  You need me to tell you what to do, how to take care of your cock, or you’d just be needing it all the time, go with anyone who promised you a good fuck.” Tony squeezed, dragged his hand up over Steve’s cock, twisting his hand around the tip then rocking his palm flat over it, rubbing and circling it, until Steve was almost sobbing for breath, clawing at the arms of the chair, struggling not to try to buck Tony off just to make the overwhelming sensation stop for a few seconds, so he could catch his breath.

Tony stopped when he was whimpering, slid his hand down along the underside of Steve’s shaft, patted him gently at the base, used his clever fingers to gently roll Steve’s balls, stroking, caressing, until the overwhelming sensation was definitely pleasure, and Steve was whining, writhing under him for another reason.

“So desperate for it,” Tony said, voice hot and deep and low, as caressing as his fingers, tender, knowing.  “Oh, sweetheart, I know.”  Steve sobbed into the leather with desperate, overworked pleasure, feeling his shoulders jumping, shuddering, and then felt the fingers of Tony’s other hand against them, rubbing against the tight, quivering muscles, even as his other hand massaged Steve’s balls.  “You love it,” Tony murmured against his skin, as if he was considering, measuring, _planning_ , and tugged on Steve’s balls until he gasped, groaned, pushed his rear up under Tony’s weight, couldn’t help it.  “You love it when I do this to you.  Drag it out, call you names.  Dirty you up.  Make you face it, how you need me to take care of you.”  Soft, caressing touches now, over Steve’s tight balls, then back, stroking over his perineum.  “Make you _beg_ me for it.”  Tony’s fingers dug in, then, hard, pushing in against Steve’s sensitive perineum until he could feel the pleasure of that place inside they were hitting mercilessly arc through him, shivering all through his skin, and jolted with it, tried to swallow the sounds he wanted to make and ended up giving a gurgling little choked out moan instead.  Tony smiled against the back of his neck, trailed his lips up along Steve’s hairline, so that Steve could feel the soft prickle of his facial hair against his skin, and shivered at that, too, and then gave his fingers a ruthless twist that made Steve’s cock _jerk_ , made pleasure, bruising pleasure, slam through him like a blow.

“Oh,” Steve gasped helplessly against the leather of the chair, feeling his chest sliding against it. He was sweating, slick with it. “Oh.  Oh.”

“Damn, peaches,” Tony said, and dug his fingers in a little harder, sliding his hand down, over the front of Steve’s shoulder, to take hold of his nipple and _squeeze_ , in a firm, hard, _mean_ pinch, pulling it out from Steve’s body then giving it a harsh little slap that made Steve gasp, his cock jerk and harden and ache for something to rub against, for Tony’s hand to come back, “you’re such a messy _slut_ for pain sometimes, aren’t you?”

And Steve heard himself moan, his own voice, breaking and rough and dragged out of his chest and needy, as his cock jerked and Tony’s fingers rolled against his sweet spot through the thin skin of his perineum and he came through his sore, tired cock, against Tony’s office chair.

Tony’s hand came up from his nipple, petted through Steve’s hair.  “Oh, aren’t _you_ a good boy,” he purred. “That’s it, come for me again. That’s four, isn’t it, princess? Making such a pretty mess for me.” He scratched along Steve’s scalp, squeezed at the back of his neck.  “I guess you’re going to have to clean that up.  Oh, but you’re still coming, aren’t you?  You do have a lot; no wonder it’s so easy to lead you around by your cock. Well, take your time.  Don’t worry, I’ll take care of your poor, needy dick. Just needs so much attention, doesn’t it?”

Steve moaned, felt himself go limp against the chair, his cock still jerking painfully through aftershocks, blurting out come onto the floor that he knew he was going to have to clean up with his mouth, and damn if that didn’t just make him come harder. And then Tony was shifting, leaning over him—his hand came down around Steve’s wrist, and then there were two fingers of the other hand sliding between Steve’s parted lips, smearing the overly sweet, salty flavor of Steve’s own come over his tongue (God, where he’d—he must have scooped it up off the floor, he hadn’t touched Steve’s cock), and Steve moaned and closed his eyes and his mouth and sucked on them.

“See,” Tony murmured in his ear, hand still stroking softly through his hair, “I know you like it. Love this, love me to call you names, to rub it in.  Love to be humiliated, don’t you, sweetcheeks?”

And all Steve could do was nod and suck his own come off Tony’s fingers.  It wasn’t like he could argue, not when he’d asked Tony to do just this, just for him, not when he was kneeling, legs spread out wide and rear pushed out and exposed, over a messy pool of his own come on the gleaming floor of Tony’s office in the mansion, splayed out over Tony’s desk chair like a toy, like what Tony had said he was, like all of it.

“I haven’t even had you suck me off yet,” Tony said, in a musing tone, and all Steve could do was smile around Tony’s fingers in his mouth.

Tony was so good at this.  And Steve did love it.


End file.
